Episode 59 - Conflicted

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  Welcome back to the podcast. To an adventure that was, in many ways, a long time coming. But one I might keep delaying. Who knows? I mean, you didn’t join this podcast for high action, high stakes drama. There was never any of that here. Which some people know to expect from a single voice podcast or podcasts in general. A lot of our language around action and suspense has been formed through visuals, which has its drawbacks, but it does mean we know not to expect certain things in a podcast. Like a dramatic fight scene or never-ending conflict. External conflict, that is. I am certainly conflicted in a never ending sort of way.

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Now that I think about the show more and more, I can see some cracks in the facade I put up, in the understanding of the show I had held firmly onto throughout my life as the memory crumbled from time’s constant pestering. It was never perfect. I never fully understood that show. And it’s only when I looked at it again in this new light did I finally see its flaws.

I always thought Jade was the protagonist of this show. More often than not, this role is thought of as the “hero.” Those terms don’t mean the exact same thing, but we use them interchangeably at times because we can’t imagine not rooting for the main character, for the person we are following throughout this adventure. They are our champion, our companion. They are also a blank canvas upon which we can impose some of our feelings and values. A touch of us is  with them, becomes them, but we don’t admit it. We don’t admit that we are more emotionally invested in them than we are supposed to be, than people expect us to be. Than we should be, by many accounts.

It’s because we need to be, but it’s a need we don’t admit we have. We don’t want to admit that we connect to a character in this way, that we are so desperate to be connected to other people that we create these artificial connections for ourselves, binding ties that have unknown demands and stakes. Binding ties that we have committed to in a way that we should not have. 

We don’t often think about our relationship with the media we consume. We know it brings us joy. We know it’s a way we can connect to others and to forge new connections. We know that we build communities on media. Stories become the foundations that we build off of as we create what should be one of many structures that make up our lives. But there aren’t other structures anymore. Things are broken down. Things are lost.

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Jade looked at the hand offered out to her, but with her face and expression being blank, it’s hard to know what she was thinking. This wasn’t the first episode, the pilot where everyone is exploring unknown territory literally and figuratively. Jade had gone through this whole process before. She knew the rules of her adventures, how she would always be in an unfamiliar place where no one should know who she was. So I can’t imagine that she wasn’t just as confused as I was that this woman seemed to know who she was. 

But in front of her, the woman did know. The spark of recognition stayed put on her face. The woman kept the bottle tightly clutched in her other hand. It wasn’t fully out of sight, but it was close to her body where she could more carefully guard it. And that seemed to be her priority: proximity and not secrecy. Given how innocuous that bottle was, her approach makes sense. There was no need to be guarded. That would only draw attention to herself. 

And there was no need to risk such a thing. She was already somewhat invisible. The market around them was still busy. There was still a world around Jade that she could have lost herself in. She could have found another adventure or literally anything else. But she didn’t. 

To her credit, Jade didn’t approach the woman at first. She held back. She showed a degree of restraint that might make someone think that she had a chance to make the right decision, though no one could have known what the right decision was at that moment. 

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I’ve heard all the discussions and discourse about the death of media literacy, alarms sounded in both criticism and genuine fear. It’s proclaimed a universal concern, something bad that could lead to more bad things, a compounding failure of our school system that will leave us vulnerable in various ways for generations to come. 

And I don’t think any of that is wrong, per se. But there are other things to talk about. Like are we even talking about the same thing with media literacy? Should we be able to discern what is meant by what is not said or what roads are not taken or what actions are left undone? Should we be able to recognize the dangers that are never fully realized? 

You might think so. I mean, it would make sense in some ways. That’s an evolutionary thing, right? Recognize danger and then take steps to avoid said danger without ever really knowing for sure what that danger could have done to you. Taking this approach means ensuring your own safety against the threat. And just because we aren’t living in the wilderness anymore, just because some aspects of life have gotten easier, doesn’t mean we still don’t need that skill. Especially when it comes to dealing with each other.

Stories are central to the way we relate to each other, to the way we understand each other. And in the end, that’s a major reason why we need media literacy. Yes, it sucks if you don’t understand the latest installment to your favorite movie franchise, and not being able to pick up on the subtle foreshadowing of the book you're reading might make it harder to understand the theories that come out of your fan community or might mean you are unprepared for the twists that are coming in the story. Those things can take away from an experience, but they are things you are able to survive. 

With other things, the damage this breakdown can do is still an open question. 

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Okay, when I say things “are breaking down,” this is not me pearl-clutching. I’m not referencing some bygone era and wishing we could go back there somehow. I mean that there is more loneliness than I think there used to be. Not that I would know for sure. And admittedly my perspective is horribly distorted, dictated by my own experiences. I’m well aware how a bias works. 

But at the same time, there’s so much of what I see around me that seems like… Well, a loss of some communities. We don’t have religious communities anymore. Which is both good and bad. But we’ve also moved away from families. The families we grew up with are not going to be the families we see everyday anymore. Friends are hard to make when you are an adult. And we don’t stay at workplaces for long. I mean, sometimes we do, but that seems like both an achievement and a curse. On one hand you managed to survive the threat of termination or lay off. But on the other, statistics say that leaving tends to get you a better salary and more benefits. But it also means it’s harder for you to form connections with your coworkers. Which might be good. It might not be. It’s sort of a case by case basis. 

Fandom can be a community, specifically a community you chose. They can be a great source of care and support. But if they are the only community one you have, the stakes are high, and that’s going to lead you to making certain choices. It makes you overly defensive. It brings out talons that should not be and makes you turn away from that which should spur you to act. It makes you overly complacent and overly aggressive all at once. It changes you, somehow. It’s changed us. And I can’t help but think it’s for worse. 

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Jade said nothing to the woman. Jade hardly talked at all when she was going on these adventures. I can’t remember if she had a voice much less what she sounded like. She was just there, going through the motions. Walking forward and taking that woman’s hand committing to this action. Whatever it would be. 

She didn’t stop to think about it. And can you blame her? Jade was still a child. She wasn’t going to somehow know this was the sort of thing she shouldn't be doing.  You couldn’t expect her to somehow read the hypothetical future to know what she shouldn’t do, what would happen if she did, who would be lost if she did. 

Or maybe you could. Maybe you could see something in that woman’s eyes or hear it in her voice, something that would have made you turn away. Maybe there was some sign that even a child could have noticed. Maybe the problem wasn’t what Jade thought.

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There’s no way of knowing, though. I keep telling myself that. There’s no real way of predicting what the plot line of the episode could have been had Jade made a different choice. And in the end, those hypothetical story lines aren’t the point. They weren’t the ones the writers chose. They aren’t the character’s destiny written in some sort of figurative stone. Or whatever the equivalent would be for a character created by a human being.

At the end of the story or day or whatever this expression should be, Jade didn’t really have agency. She didn’t choose to do anything, did she? I know I’ve said I like to imagine that she did chose, but now, lately, I’ve been trying to really sit with that reality that I was once avoiding. 

Because the truth of it is, Jade’s story was written for her. The part she played in it was never hers to decide. 

In some ways, that taints the show for me. It means that I never really had any sort of role model. Not that I really looked up to Jade. That would have been somewhat… Stupid? Dumb? Something in the vein of those terms but maybe with a lighter bite. I don’t know. But it does mean I didn’t have something that I thought I did. It means that I have one less connection or support, one less than I thought I did. It was imagined, sure, but it was better than nothing. And by some account, I actually had nothing. 

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“You’ll help me,” the woman said.

It could have been a question, one might say. Just because it isn’t worded like most questions are doesn’t mean it isn’t a question. The difference would be determined by the tone the speaker used. And given that this is lost media we’re talking about and that we’re relying on my memory of the tone, which we’ve already established is questionable at best, you aren’t inclined to believe me. But I do know it wasn’t a question. It was a declarative statement. 

You will help me, the woman meant to say. 

In her mind, it was already decided. And I guess it was. It was decided in a way that was binding, somehow. The terms were never properly laid out.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

Jade approached the woman. Her hand gently accepted the one the woman offered. And Jade’s hands looked so small in those frames. The drawings that made up that scene seemed needlessly dramatic and drawn out. It wasn’t that the animation was choppy, though, let me be clear about that. It was just slower. Like there were frames that were being dwelt on longer than they should have been. It put emphasis on that moment. Of hand going into hand. 

Of Jade’s choice. Insofar as there was one.

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I don’t remember any other episode having such dramatics, especially in that moment when the hero, as it were, accepted their call to action. Or was Jade a hero? I thought I decided that she wasn’t, but clearly it’s not a decision I can stick to. It’s not something I can commit to. One step forward and two steps back you could say. I would say. 

But my point is that this episode was set apart from the rest. It was more significant in some ways. It had that aura of… mattering, somehow. Like all the other episodes were just practice runs and this was the real deal. This was the one that mattered. And maybe that’s why I remember it so well. Maybe that’s why this one has stood out in my mind, why it has endured, even when I try to shove it from my brain. 

Because I have tried, honestly. This is not a memory I particularly enjoyed. 

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A man’s voice cut through the scene then. It was sudden and sharp. The woman jumped when she heard it. But Jade did not. Jade simply turned her head. Her face redirected, but for the most part, it remained exactly as it had been the entire time. 

That is, until her eyes locked onto him. Until she truly registered the person who had called out to them. Once she made that connection, something clicked in her mind. Some thought snapped into place. And with that thought, a spark took hold in her eye.

Or I remember a spark. And once again, you may be tempted to enter the conversation and point out that my memory is shoddy at best. Because why? Why would this moment be such a deviation from what I knew to be true, from what I assured you was true about this show? Why this change? 

Because it mattered. Because then Jade smiled. For the first time, the audience saw her smile.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

It’s a bit simple, but I think lost media is a sign that the connections we care about, the sort of thing we need to be able to get by, to live and enjoy the living we are doing, are fragile, temporary, not entirely valued. Stories were always the way we connected with those kept apart from us via distance or time. It’s a way we keep lessons and memories alive. It’s a way to support the whole and to remain a part of said whole. It’s a way to protect what is distinctly human. 

And it’s being eroded away by time or for money, for cash, or the perception of such. It’s being taken away for seemingly no benefit to you when it would be so much easier just to keep these stories alive, somewhat available, or at least undeleted. 

It’s easy to let someone keep something. Taking it away requires effort. It creates problems and risks. It makes everything worse. It makes your life worse. And for what? Or for why, really?

You could list out reasons, sure, but I wonder how fragile those reasons are.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

The camera focused on Jade during that moment. She took center stage, figuratively. I don’t know what the more literal term would be. I’m not so familiar with visual mediums, as you might have noticed. My point is that it was just her there. She was the only one that mattered. She was the center of our world just then. 

To tell you the truth, even if Jade’s normally flat affect might have been disconcerting at points, which it kind of was, it wasn’t flat right then. There was life to it. There was joy and comfort and the rarity of those things made it special. And there was something… joyful about it? Okay that feels a bit on the nose. I mean to say that there was something beautiful about that sight. There was something comforting or noble or glorious. It’s hard to say. After all, this was only a cartoon I only half remember, and I’m not inclined to be too enthused about this. 

In any event, it was preferable to what came next as the camera–figurative or otherwise–shifted its perspective from Jade to the woman and the sneer plastered across her face.

When I first saw this episode, I didn’t quite know what a sneer was or what it meant. It wasn’t the sort of expression I saw often, but I knew enough to be concerned. Just like I knew that the tightened grip on Jade’s hand was something else to be concerned about. 

And just like that, the problem, the episode’s conflict, had fully been revealed. 

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Aishi Online is a production of Miscellany Media Studios. It is written, produced, performed, and edited by MJ Bailey with music from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. If you like the show, please leave a review, tell a friend, or post about it on some mysterious online forum. You do you.